


The Tipping Point

by castielanderson



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-29
Updated: 2012-12-29
Packaged: 2017-11-22 19:55:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/613652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castielanderson/pseuds/castielanderson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five instances where Sam is alerted to someone special in Dean’s life; he just can’t figure out who it is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Tipping Point

**i.**

It’s cold and dark, and Sam watches as his breath escapes as tendrils into the air.  He waits impatiently as Dean strolls around to the driver’s side of the Impala to unlock the doors.  Sam’s eager to get inside the car, away from the icy wind.  He hopes this time around they can work a case in California, rather than Wisconsin.

Dean glances at Sam as he pushes the keys into the door.  “Hey,” he says.  “You’re sitting in back.  I promised Cas he could ride shotgun.”

Sam huffs, irritated for only a second before he decides he doesn’t care.  He just wants to warm up.  As Dean and Cas slip into the front seats, Sam crawls in the back.  He hesitates when he feels something rubbery underneath the toe of his boot.  Looking down, it only takes him a second to realize what it is, and he’s jumping back out of the car.

_“Dean!”_

“What?” he asks, startled as he looks over his shoulder.

“Seriously, man,” Sam says, exasperated.  “It’s your car, but – God, clean up after yourself.”

Dean leans back a little farther, trying to get a look at what Sam’s talking about.  “I can’t see what – “

“A condom,” Sam practically hisses.  “It’s disgusting.”

“Ugh, come on,” Dean chastises.  “Don’t be a baby – just chuck it in the snow.”

Sam stares at him disbelievingly.  “I’m not touching that, Dean – you _used_  it.”

Dean rolls his eyes and gets out of the car.  He comes around to the back door and reaches inside the car, plucking up the condom and throwing it to the ground.  “How do you know _I_ used it?” he grumbles.

Sam scoffs.  “Well,  _I_ didn’t.”

Dean doesn’t answer, and Sam climbs, carefully this time, into the back seat.  Briefly, he wonders when the hell Dean even had sex back here.  He spent the entire last case working, even going above and beyond to make sure he and Cas got a last minute interview with the first victim’s estranged sister – who it turns out was the witch the entire time.

Unless Dean and the witch … Sam shakes his head, pushing the thought from his mind.

.

.

**ii.**

It’s been a long week.  Well, really – it’s been a long six weeks.  It’s been case after case, and they haven’t found any time to kick back and relax.  Dean had really wanted to stop at some bar and grill in Sacramento he saw on  _Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives_ , but once they’d taken out the succubus, they’d had to move straight onto something going on Tuscon.

Now they’re in Stillwater, Oklahoma, and Sam’s about ready to collapse.  Currently, Dean’s in the shower, and Cas is lounging on Dean’s empty bed, looking once again through John’s journal.  Sam thinks he must have the damn thing memorized by now, but he just keeps reading it.

Sam continues to scroll through his laptop, looking through horribly-coded history websites and online newspapers.  Eventually, he comes across something suspicious in an old 2003 article and thinks it’s worth comparing to his other evidence.  Sam leans back from his laptop, looking around the table for his flashdrive, but nothing’s there.  He sighs, retracing his steps, and remembers quickly shoving it into the glove box of the Impala after they had stolen some records at the police station.

Sam pushes himself up, crossing the room and grabbing Dean’s jacket from where he’d thrown it onto the table.  He reaches into the pocket for the keys, but instead, pulls out a small tube of something.  Sam’s stomach gives an odd little lurch, and as he looks at the label, he discovers the nausea is dignified. Letting out noise of disgust, Sam chucks the lube back on the table and pulls the keys from Dean’s other pocket as fast as he can.

As he retrieves the flashdrive and heads back into the motel, Sam decides he’s already growing tired of these little reminders of Dean’s sex life – and not that Sam’s been keeping count, but for some reason, Dean seems to be a little more active than he has been previously.  Sam makes a face at himself and urges his brain to stop; he’s making himself nauseous again.

.

.

**iii.**

Sam breathes a small sigh of relief when he hears the shower finally shut off.  Dean’s always been one to take  _forever_  in the shower, but lately it’s been almost unbearable, and Sam thinks Dean might just be doing it to piss him off.  Today, it sounds like Dean’s giving the cockroach population of the bathroom an entire concert, which is a disappointing change from his more recent quietness.

As Dean continues to freshen up in the bathroom, Sam picks up the rest of the motel room.  He collects all of their trash and then heads over to make the beds.  Dean’s sheets are completely rumpled up – so bad that Sam decides he might as well just strip everything off and start fresh. 

As he pulls off the comforter, something falls to the floor.  Sam crouches down and picks it up, smoothing the silky, blue tie through his fingers.

Sam frowns, feeling a little uneasy.  He doesn’t recognize this as either of theirs, but maybe he’s just never paid close enough attention.  Something itches at the back of Sam’s mind, but he can’t scratch it, can’t figure out what’s wrong with this picture.

The door to the bathroom opens up, and Dean steps out, running a hand across the back of his head.

“Hey,” Sam says, holding up the tie.  “Is this yours?  I don’t think it’s mine.”

Dean squints at it for a second before a mischievous grin spans across his lips.  “Oh, I know it’s not yours,” he replies as he crosses over to the bed and snatches up the tie from Sam’s fingertips.

“Did you buy a new one?” Sam asks, feeling more lost by the second.

“No, no,” Dean says.  “But I’m definitely gonna borrow it.” 

He chuckles to himself, and Sam decides he doesn’t want to know; remaining clueless feels like it might be the better option here.

.

.

**iv.**

At last, Dean, Sam, and Cas catch a break after taking out a whole abandoned theater full of spirits.  Now, they’re lounging in some bar in Washington, thoroughly enjoying themselves.  Dean and Cas are sitting back, whispering back and forth as Sam scrolls through his phone, looking for any suspicious news.  Sam isn’t normally one for bar food, but tonight he’s feeling it, and he decides to order himself the smallest burger they have and a nice, tall beer. 

Cas orders nothing, as usual, but Sam’s surprised when Dean asks for “just a Coke.” They’re at a bar for God’s sake.  Normally, Dean would order the hardest liquor they have, but tonight he’s not even drinking beer. 

“A Coke?” Sam asks, raising an eyebrow.

Dean shrugs.  “You’re drinking, so that must mean I’m driving.”

Sam continues to stare at him quizzically for a moment, because he knows for a fact that that kind of thing has never bothered Dean before.  Hell, Sam can still remember the time he drove after using a different kind of Coke.  Dean’s driven on all kinds of things, and as someone who’s seriously considered tricking Dean into going to an AA meeting, he can’t help but wonder how this sudden change came about.

Quietly, he watches Dean, noticing how happy he seems.  Happy  _and_ sober.  Sam isn’t sure what the attitude change is for, but he’s grateful for it.  So extremely grateful. 

Dean leans over, listening as Cas whispers something into his ear, and then he bursts out laughing.  His eyes are bright and wild when he mumbles something back, smiling widely.  Cas smirks in return, turning his body more toward Dean as they continue to talk.

Sam feels a small twinge in his heart, though he can’t say what it’s from.

A good twenty minutes pass by before a server heads over with Sam’s food.  Her boobs are practically spilling out of her low-cut tank top as she bends over the bar, setting the burger down in front of Sam.  She looks across their group and smiles shyly at Dean, who returns a smile not even half-hearted.  She looks a little defeated as she walks away, but as it turns out, she’s not done.

She comes back frequently throughout the night – taking Sam’s dirty dishes, replacing his beers and Dean’s soda.  She bats her eyelashes, flips her hair, and laughs obnoxiously, but Dean never returns the interest.  However, the server refuses to give up, and her subtle attempts become less so.

She parks herself right in front of them, leaning heavily against the countertop so her boobs are right in Dean’s face.

“So,” she says.  “I haven’t seen you around here before.  Where you from?”

Dean shrugs.  “Nowhere.”

“So you’re a drifter, then?” the girl asks.

Dean nods.  “I suppose.”

“What do you do for a living?”

Dean doesn’t even make eye contact.  “Pest control,” he replies, smirking a little at himself.

“Interesting,” the server replies, nodding and looking as if she even remotely cares.  “Must be a rigorous job.  You might be wearing a coat, but even then – you look pretty defined.”

Dean glances at Cas before he replies with another shrug, the smirk still plastered on his face.  “I guess.”

The girl leans close, pouting a little as she looks right into Dean’s eyes.  “Mmm.  I’d like to see if I’m right, like to get you out of that coat.”

Dean coughs a little, leaning back in his seat.  “Okay – look, I’m sorry,” he says, “but I’m not going home with you.”

“We don’t have to go home,” the girl replies, still pushing forward.  “I’ve got a car and there’s an employee bathroom in the back.”

Sighing heavily, Dean counters, “Allow me to put this way – I don’t want to have sex with you, alright?”

“What?  You don’t think I can show you a good time?” the girl asks, straightening up.

Dean coughs again.  “I’m – I’m sure you can, but, uh – I’m – I’m taken,” he says, and Sam can feel his head shoot up, staring at Dean curiously.  “And I’m not cool with cheating.”

Sam watches him carefully, observing Dean’s body language and the expression on his face.  He can’t tell, but he’s pretty sure Dean must be lying.  But lying, why?  The girl certainly isn’t unattractive, and Sam knows that Dean hasn’t lost any sex drive.  It just doesn’t make sense for Dean to turn her down like this, unless – maybe he just isn’t in the mood for sex. 

The server leaves in a huff, and Dean snickers as she does.

“Christ – didn’t think I was gonna shake her.”

He takes a sip of his Coke, and Sam only continues to feel like he’s missing something huge here.

.

.

**v.**

The silence in the supernatural world continues, and Sam and Dean are nothing but grateful.  It’s been four days since the night in Washington, and they can’t seem to find something strange enough to be their thing.  Instead, they decide to head to New York and look for something to do. 

It’s the third night in the city, and Sam decides he’d rather just kick back at the motel and watch some TV.  He figures Dean will do the same, but as it turns out, Dean has plans. 

Around five o’clock, Dean heads into the bathroom to shower.  An hour later, and he still hasn’t come out.  Sam’s pretty sure he’s out of the shower, because he’s heard plenty of other noises coming from the room – an electric razor, the sink running, things being moved around the counter.  As one hour turns into two, Sam thinks he better check on Dean, and he gets up to knock on the bathroom door.

“Just a second,” Dean replies.

“Dude, you’ve been in there for _two_  hours – what’s going on?”

Dean yanks the door open, obviously frustrated.  Sam opens his mouth to reply in an irritated tone, but he stops at the sight that meets his eyes.  Dean’s dressed in a suit – a nice, pressed, black suit – and a slim tie.  His hair is gelled back, and -

Sam takes a step closer to Dean, sniffing.  He raises an eyebrow.  “Dean, is that – is that  _cologne_?”

Dean scowls, but a blush rises in his cheeks.  “Yeah, so?”

“Since when do you wear cologne?”

“Since I don’t want to smell like ass while I’m out on a date tonight,” Dean replies, looking into the mirror and straightening his tie.

Sam blinks, shaking his head a little in surprise.  “A – a date?” he asks disbelievingly.  “Where?”

“You know that Italian place we saw the other night?”

“You said it looked it gross.”

“Yeah, well – it’s nice, and I wanted to have a nice date for once,” Dean says, running a hand over his already pristine hair.  “So, I got reservations for seven-thirty.”

“Wow,” Sam mutters, crossing his arms.  “You’re really going all out.  So – you gonna tell me her name, or what?”

Dean stops short, looking back at Sam with nothing but utter confusion.  “Are – you’re joking, right, Sam?”

Sam blinks, and now he’s completely lost.  He hasn’t exactly heard a name or seen a face yet.  Sure, Dean’s strayed a few nights, but for the most part, he’s stayed with Sam and Cas while working cases.  How is Sam supposed to anything?

“No …” Sam says slowly.

“You’re serious?” Dean asks, raising his eyebrows.  He stands up straight, grinning as he crosses his arms.  “Sam, come on – I thought – I thought we were being pretty obvious.  I figured you’d kind of been expecting this to happen.”

Still, Sam’s only more perplexed.  “Well, obviously you’re in a relationship, Dean,” he starts.  “That much is obvious.  I just don’t know who it is, I mean – you haven’t brought her back to the motel, I haven’t heard a name – “

And then it hits Sam, everything fitting together like a puzzle piece – the way Dean smirked at Cas after he turned down the server.  The way Cas eyed up Dean’s drink, obviously pleased it wasn’t alcohol.  The way they’ve been standing way too close for comfort.  The way they whisper and smirk and touch each other lightly on their arms, their shoulders, their legs.  The tie, the lube, the –

Sam stops himself short, pushing those thoughts from his mind.

He focuses his attention back to Dean, reengaging in their conversation.  Giving himself a shake, he says, “It’s Cas, isn’t it?”

“Well, would you look that,” Dean says, sarcasm dripping from his voice.  “Way to get your head out of your ass, Sammy.”

Sam’s quiet for a minute, dizzy as he tries to wrap his head around everything.  “Dean, how – how did it happen?”

Dean shrugs.  “I don’t know, I guess – the feeling was always kind of there, and – well, there was that case with the spirit in the asylum – that kid who went crazy because he was suppressing all of that shit, and when we talked to that psychologist, it kind of hit me.  Why I felt so awful about some things that had happened between Cas and I, and I just – I realized then what was going on.  It was weird it first, because – what the hell, it’s  _Cas_  – but I had to accept it, you know?  So when Cas popped in the next time, I just went for it, and oh, it was  _awesome_.  Man, for a pure little cherub, he – “

“ _Okay_ ,” Sam interrupts.  “Too much information, Dean.”

“Point is,” Dean continues.  “I – I really care about him, Sam, and well – I guess I finally understand why you ditched me for some girl.”

Sam rolls his eyes.  “Whatever.”

“Oh, come on,” Dean says.  “I’m just messing with you, Sammy.”

Sam sighs.  “I know,” he says, stuffing his hands in his pockets, “and honestly, Dean – I’m happy for you guys.  It’s been nice to see you like this.  Cas, too.  I wish you both good luck.”

Dean smiles, pleased.  “Thanks, Sammy.” 

“Hey, Dean,” Sam says after a second.

“Yeah?”

“When you and Cas come back tonight, can you – will you  _please_  get a different room?”

Dean smirks, laughing slightly.  “Already covered, Sam.”

Sam nods, breathing a small sigh of relief while also choking back a disgusted sound.  “Thanks.”

Cas shows up only a few minutes later, dressed no different than usual, but he’s smiling – bigger than Sam’s ever seen him.  Dean kisses him lightly on the lips before taking his hand and promising him that this date is going to be “awesome.”  Sam shakes his head, but as they leave, he feels a little surge of pride go through him.  The two of them have gone through too much shit, and at the very least, they deserve each other.  Sam’s glad they finally mustered up the courage to be together.


End file.
